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When a place deliberately serves you food that's rotten, greasy, and certain to have you sh***ing bricks, you assume it's an Angus Steakhouse, but these are actually the bona fides of John Salt: a wood & concrete Islington warehouse pushing insane food & the booze to chase it.
The fun starts with "Chicken on a Brick" -- chicken liver mousse & crispy skin served on a bitter-caramel-glazed builders brick “customers are encouraged to actually lick". Those other typically negative descriptors play out in maple-syrup-poached rainbow trout served with "rotten mango juice", and a hefty heel of dripping-cooked beef complimented by kimchi and "greasy juices" that, far from being repellant, make it the one that you want.
The bar sees slightly more accessible chow (salt marsh lamb wraps, crispy chicken skin sandwiches...) bolstering roughly two dozen crafts, including London Fields, Black Isle Porter, Bristol Beer Factory, and their own home-brewed lager. Cocktails stretch from the brandy, gin, pineapple & sage Angel's Kiss, to the rum & pale ale Spiced Steelbottom, which'd come in handy given the nature of your sh***ing.

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When a place deliberately serves you food that's rotten, greasy, and certain to have you sh***ing bricks, you assume it's an Angus Steakhouse, but these are actually the bona fides of John Salt: a wood & concrete Islington warehouse pushing insane food & the booze to chase it.